


Mark These Words

by Lee_of_io



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Drug Abuse, Eddie Brock is an unreliable narrator, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Other, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-18 16:09:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16998225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lee_of_io/pseuds/Lee_of_io
Summary: What a waste.Because that’s what it was, a waste. Venom had died for a waste of life like Eddie.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has not been beta read. I apologize in advance.

It’s not the fall or the blistering heat of the flames that haunt him. It’s that shock of the water, slamming into his back, enveloping him and swallowing his screams in choked gargles. The darkness of the ocean leaching the warmth from his muscles and arresting his movements to disorientation.

Then he sinks.

At least, he wishes he had.

It’s a waking nightmare trying to move on with his life. The adrenalin that was the last few days with Venom has finally come to a spectacular crushing end. The hospital holds him for a day, but even they can’t find a reason to stop him from leaving. Even Dan, who had run the tests and found him to be on the verge of critical heart failure, couldn’t find anything further wrong with him.

And that was it, wasn’t it? There wasn’t anything wrong with him. Venom had come through with his promise of fixing Eddie. Hell, they had brought him back to life at one point.

That thought sends him down another dizzying spiral. He had died. Riot had skewered him like a piece of meat. Somehow, for some reason Eddie couldn’t wrap his head around, Venom had come back and revived him. They saved _him_.

And they did it twice. Venom had sacrificed themself for Eddie.

_What a waste._

Because that’s what it was, a waste. Venom had died for a waste of life like Eddie.

Now that he was alone in his head again he didn’t both to stifle such thoughts. Who was going to judge him? He was all alone in his body now, a body that somehow seemed more claustrophobic now that Venom was gone.

Regardless, as Anne so eloquently put it, things could go back to normal now. Granted, most people who had their body-snatched by an alien parasite would long for a bit of normality again.

But Eddie didn’t want to go back to normal. Normal meant going back to the numb ache that his life had been for the last six months. Venom, for as much stress and terror as they had put Eddie thought, had been an almost welcome reprieve from the stagnation and isolation that had become his day-to-day life. With Venom he was no longer alone.

For as much as they had been a pain in the ass, Venom’s words were no worse than what Eddie’s internal voice already berated him daily with. _Loser_. _Didn’t deserve Anne_. _Waste of life_.

The voices circled in on that last one a lot lately.

Venom had been more than that. They had also worked with Eddie. When the two of them became one they were a team. And for the first time since Anne had left him on that sidewalk six months ago with a returned engagement ring pressed into his hand, Eddie felt like someone had his back.

He felt like he had only just begun to unravel all of what those short few days with Venom truly meant to him now, just as it was all over.

He shivers as the phantom sensations of water elapsing over him awakens in muscle memory.

Before he leaves the hospital he is given a prescription for sleeping pills, as insomnia seems to be the only lingering symptom of his ordeal with the Life Foundation, or at least, the only one Eddie will admit out loud. No one needs to know about the creeping numbness that he can quite shake from his fall into the ocean that night. Nor about the cynical whispers in his head that point out that he should have stayed there.

He’s confident that they wouldn’t let him leave if he said any of that aloud. And all he wants right now is to leave. To finally be alone where he can break down in the privacy.

Back to normal.

The first couple of days actually seem ok. Not great, but ok. With an urgent need to occupy his mind with productivity, Eddie contacts a few small online news publications and makes a case for his journalistic skills. He even gets a couple of emails back with promising results. Nothing big, but hey, it was a modest step in the right direction.

Given his last residence had been enthusiastically riddled with dead bodies in the wake of Venom’s fight with Drake’s men, Eddie had been forced to find a new dwelling. This was a frustration set back, but with all that had happened in the last few days, Anne had graciously decided to step back into his life an offer a tentative friendship. With her and Dan’s help (the guy had been surprisingly affable given that Venom had tried to strangle him with Eddie’s own hands, not even that long ago. _Water under the bridge_ , he had said with a smile, as if Eddie had been ridiculous for even bringing it up and apologizing.) he was able to find a smaller apartment not far from his first, at least in the short term.

Now as he spent his days unloading boxes of the possessions he managed to salvage from his old place, Eddie felt a kind of cautious optimism start to unfold inside him. Maybe he could get the hang of this normal life thing again.

That is, until about a week into his new living situation.

Eddie would say that he’s always been a bit of an insomniac. A night owl as Anne had affectionately dubbed him on the to frequent occasion during their relationship that he had softly elected to stay up, wrapped tight in the coils of an investigation or researching new leads. Back then, he had learned to harness his anxious waking hours and use them for the thrill of his work, only returning to Anne’s side well into the early morning.

Now, there was less to shut out the dread. The little work he was able to secure was too easily completed during the day, and any other ways he tried to occupy his time felt like pathetic attempts to dam to flood of negative thoughts.

If left alone, lying on his bed in the middle of the night, Eddie would be helpless against a deluge of dark thoughts that would give him cold sweats, tunnel his vision, and render him gasping, unable to draw breath from inert lungs.

In that moment he is back in the water. Where he belongs. And once again he hates himself in that he is too cowardly to stay beneath the waves, breaking the surface and drawing air back into his starving body.

On the bed, he gives a full body spasm and lurches upright.

From that night forward he more regularly takes the sleeping pills, sometimes doubling the dosage in the hopes that it will cause him to conk out fast, before the not yet familiar shadows in his apartment can trigger a memory of Venom’s sleek obsidian form creeping out of the corner of his eye or, worse yet, the dark shifting waters of the bay.

This works for a while. Eddie feels that things are back on track. He’s learned to politely and discreetly manage his fucked up issues without anyone catching on. An achievement, he feels, given how many neurosis Venom’s short presence in his life seemed to dredge up and make apparent to the world. Not that it was Venom’s fault that he was so messed up. Hell, the Symbiote even embraced him for all his issues. It was heartening to truly come to realize that Venom had wanted Eddie, even while having access to and understanding the many imperfections of his brain.

_And they died for the likes of you_.

Soon the pills run out. Far faster than they should have. Eddie doesn’t say anything to Dan or the hospital. They might grow concerned about his rapid use of the drugs and press him with questions. Eddie doesn’t trust himself to not answer those questions honestly.

He avoids that situation altogether and finds some over the counter sleep aids from the drug store. The bottle promises him that it’s _non-habit forming!_ in a cheerful font. Eddie can’t help but doubt that.

In the wake of Venom’s absence, Eddie’s appetite has diminished. He blames it on the stress and intrusive memory flashes of human heads being bitten off but in reality, he just can’t be bothered with food anymore. The times his stomach does reassert itself, Eddie goes whole hog and demolishes orders of takeout between helpings of tater tots.

One such occurrence he stops mid-sentence in the article he’s typing up and stares blankly at the greasy potato bite that had been absently making its way to his mouth via his hand. For a second he is hit with the acute sensation that the hand holding the tater tot is not his own, but rather, if he follows this mystify train of thought, it is one of Venom’s tendrils reaching out to offer him the fried piece of food.

_V?_ he almost whispers before reality snaps back into focus.

It’s not Venom. It’s Eddie’s own hand. And now he is toppling over his laptop and sprinting to the bathroom toilet. His stomach violently rejects its contents leaving him shaking and sweaty in the aftermath.

He doesn’t eat again for the next day or so. Subsisting primarily on bitter lukewarm (when he remembers to drink it) and sips of water at night to ease back the caffeine in preparation of knocking back a couple sleeping pills.

He is finishing up an article that had run rather late into the night when his phone alarm reminds him to take his pills. Not that he needs an alarm at this point to remember, but it a small foundation of stability in his shaky life to have the semblance of a routine.

He takes his pills with a half glass of water and turns back to his laptop, determined to try and get a little more work done before the drowsiness sets in. A short time later he gives up, saves his document, and calls it quits for the night, hoping the morning will bring fresh inspiration. He sighs and runs his hands through his (rather unruly) hair before grimacing at its oily nature. He determines that a quick shower may be in order before its lights out.

He strips down and heads under the spray and tries to be efficient about the whole process without allowing himself to linger. He knows the shower to be a trap. Its one of those places, like the bed, where he’ll find himself caught up in his own head. In the voices.

Even with that disconcerting thought in mind, he can’t help but relax under the spray a little. He allows some of the tension that had been building at his shoulders to release and slump a little. The spray of the water tattooing the top of his head in a gentle rhythm eases some of the ache at his temples. The water is soothing and he feels almost as if he is floating, suspended rather than standing on his own two feet.

_Eddie?_

His eyes snap open just as his head collides with the wall of the shower. Stars burst behind his eyes and he drops, instinctively curling his naked body into the fetal position and cradling his throbbing head.

He determines after he is able to get out of the shower and look at the injury in the bathroom mirror, that he is not concussed. Then again he hardly qualifies as a doctor, but he’s been avoiding medical help of any kind ever since the hospital. He even avoids Dan, and by extension Anne, as often as he can. He feels terrible about it but he knows he can deal with the guilt better than he can deal with whatever judgment he might face under their combined careful scrutiny.

He groans at this trail of thought and at the experimental poke he can’t help but give the new bump on his forehead. He’s supposed to be getting better at this whole thing. This whole being on his own and dealing with his shit thing.

He makes a mental note to save showering for the morning, as likely the sleeping pills were what lulled him into a stupor under the waters spray.

As he drifts off to sleep, blessedly in his own bed this time, he can help a nagging feeling that he had, but for the briefest moment, heard Venom’s voice.

It’s a storming outside the day shit really hits the fan. The first rent collection is coming up on his apartment and Eddie was hoping to have more money stacked up from the small bit writing he’s been doing online. At this rate, he’ll be short. And that’s taking into consideration that cutbacks he’s made to his grocery shopping. He lives on cheap packets of ramen when nausea allows him. He’s been avoiding going out at all costs, just on the off chance he might run into someone he knows and they tell him something condescending like _you look like shit, or you’re losing it, Eddie. Get yourself together_.

He knows! He doesn’t need their scathing remarks, or worse, their pitying concern. He has a head full of the former and the latter just makes him sick at how pathetic he has become. He would die from the shame. He already is.

He’s asked for more work. More articles to work on, more anything. Any busy work that’s available he’s there to snap up. They all get back to him insisting that he’s done more than enough for now and that when the need for him comes up he’ll be notified.

_Haven’t you done enough?_

It comes off as an accusation. Maybe that’s right. Maybe all the websites he’s working with are trying to let him down easy. He’s not an asset, not needed.

_What a waste of life_.

He is though, right? This certainly isn’t how he pictured his life. Broke, broken, most days unable to get out of bed.

The worse is when he hallucinates. He’ll hear a quiet growl of _Eddie_ every now and again. Other times he’ll catch a glimpse of something in his peripheral, something black and amorphous before he whips around only to find nothing there.

Venom is haunting him and it’s not fair. They shouldn’t be dead and gone and also able to torment Eddie with his own survivor’s guilt hanging over him daily. It’s like a noose, tightening and tightening, and pulling him beneath the waves until his neck or the rope breaks, allowing him to surface and begins the process all over again.

Deciding that the day is a lost cause, Eddie reaches for his bottle of pills hours before his alarm set to go off. He just needs to go back to bed. The only place he can get away from this crushing weight is in the dead of sleep.

A cold spreads through Eddie’s veins as he lifts the pill bottle and finds it suspiciously light. He gives the bottle a shake and no sound resonates from within. With trembling hands, Eddie unscrews the cap and confirms that he is indeed without any pills.

How could he possibly have let this slip his notice? How could he have not prioritized getting more? Then again he had been a shut-in lately. He’d had so many reasons. Good, justifiable reasons to want to take more to block out the world for six to eight hours at a time. Now he’d have to go out into the rain and walk to the store and get more. It couldn’t wait.

Even bundled in two jackets and a hoodie, the cold and the wet seep through to Eddie’s skin. It had only been about a month since the whole incident with the Life Foundation, but between the absence of Venom’s voracious hunger and the queasiness that soured his appetite, Eddie had lost a noticeable amount of weight. Even with the extra layers of clothing, he couldn’t help the spasmatic chills that ran up and down his thinned limbs.

Things were made all the more frustrating when every bit of contact he made with the omnipresent downpour sent him mentally further crashing out to sea. He is hyperaware to swaying sensation of the ocean that his body drunkenly imitates with every step.

He finally made it into the refuge of pharmacy, staining the floor dark with water as he cuts a direct path to his prize.

After a short deliberation between generic brands, Eddie settles on the cheapest box he can get for the pill count. As he studies the labels he makes note of the recommended dosage and feels a twinge of guilt at realizing how often he had a tendency to exceed the dosing instructions. His liver was probably doomed at this rate. Then again, he probably would live long enough to die of liver failure…

He shivers violently causing a woman nearby to edge away from him with a side-glance. He tries not to let bother him but he can’t help but picture himself through her eyes: drenched, disheveled hair, bagged and bloodshot eyes that spoke of drug use or mental illness.

With a sharp intake of breath, Eddie realized that she was right to observe all those things. He was all of it. Transparent for all the world to see. All of his carefully masked insecurities were right there on the surface. And unlike with Venom, who had seen him and accepted him wholly, humanity was a lot less welcoming.

_How did they ever believe this world wasn’t ugly? It’s revolting! And I’m one of the things that makes it so…_

He swallows down the rush of stomach acid that burns up the back of his throat and shuffles his way to the checkout. The cashier hardly looks his way as she scans his item and reads him his total. He kinda likes that she doesn’t seem to see him.

He makes his way out the door and back out into the rain. He stops. The water continues to fall all around him and in his mind he’s back in the bay. He’s in the noose, going beneath the waves, unable to breathe as he thinks about how everything would have been so much easier if he had just died that night along with Venom.

As the rope breaks and he takes a stuttered breath again he makes a split decision and hails a taxi. One pulls up. The driver makes a face at his drenched clothes back doesn’t say anything as Eddie clambers awkwardly into the back and gives an address. If the man notices the trembling of his voice, he doesn’t acknowledge it, probably attributing it to the cold.

Eddie isn’t sure how long it takes to arrive at the water’s edge, but it seems like too soon. The ocean is torrential in the rain. Perfect.

_Don’t back down now, you coward_.

He’s not; he’s made up his mind.

He waits until the taxi a driven beyond sight and carefully makes his way down to the shore. The last thing he wants is to slip in the rain and get knocked out on the ground. Knowing his luck some rain-loving passerby would find him and he’d end up in the hospital, no doubt with Dan and Anne there at his bedside with a number of questions he’d rather not answer.

As the water laps at his ankles he can feel the pull of the current naturally trying to draw him into its embrace. He unscrews the bottle of sleeping pills and upends the contents into his open mouth.

He gags a little on the intake of pills down his gullet but regains his composure after pausing to cup his hands and collect rainwater to ease the passage of the drugs. After about half the bottle his vision begins to tunnel and he becomes hyperaware of the numbness of his extremities. _Good enough_ , he supposes, and lets the rest of the bottle slip from his frozen fingers.

_Eddie?!_

Venom. Maybe their ghost is here. Do aliens have ghosts? Eddie decides that yes, they probably do given how haunted he’s been ever since he left this place roughly a month ago.

“You don’t have to worry, V. I’ll be there soon.” With that, he begins to make his way into the water.

It’s just as fringed as he remembers. He won’t get very far offshore at the rate his limbs are seizing up, but then again, he doesn’t need to get very far to drown.

_Eddie!_

_I’m coming, V,_ he thinks, and though his mouth is busy gasping for air between the invading water, he is grinning internally. He’s finally doing it. Here he is, no longer a coward. Soon, between the pills and the freezing shock of the water, he’ll go under, and the noose or his neck won’t break this time. He’s where he was always meant to be.

_Ed **die!**_

**_Eddie!_ **

**Eddie!**

Just as he’s losing track of his senses and his head falls under the waves, he feels a warmth envelop his bodies like a thermal layer. If this was what dying felt like, he really had been missing out. He’d take this cradling warmth over all the pain he had suffered.

**Eddie hold on**

Just as he began to feel himself drift into unconsciousness he felt an acute pain in his lungs. He is wrenched out of his warm daze and doubles over on to the sandy shore and begins vomiting a flood of seawater up out of his burning throat. How did he get to shore? Had the current buffeted back onto land?

Spots danced before his eyes as his air passage clears enough for him to start coughing with renewed vigor. A horrid sensation strikes Eddie right before everything in his stomach makes a grand reappearance in the sand under his heaving form.  An abstract mess of partially dissolved pills and bile.  Is this some kind of sick punishment?

**We have you Eddie**

It is only then that Eddie notices that he had only been feeling the rain on his face. All around his body was a familiar black form, hugging him close and keeping him insulated against further chill.

“V? You’re alive? Or am I finally dead?”

**You aren’t dead Eddie. Have you now. Had to sleep. Recover. You weren’t taking care of us, your body was hurting. It took longer to get back to full strength.**

“V, I thought you died. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m such a fuck up! God, please V, don’t leave me this time! Please! I can’t do it all again if this isn’t real!”

**Won’t leave you again Eddie. We’re together now. Sleep. We’ll be here when you wake up.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from the song Televators by The Mars Volta. I listened to that song a lot while thinking up this story, so I guess it inspired it in a way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV shift to Venom.

_...V?_

 

**Still here Eddie. Sleep. We have you.**

 

_ok…just don’t…please, don’t be a dream._

 

**We’ll never leave you alone again Eddie. But we need to heal you now, and sleep will help. Don’t worry, we’ll be here when you wake.**

 

At least that was the hope. Whatever Eddie had done to himself in the time Venom had been in hibernation (curled up deep in their host’s gut, desperately absorbing whatever nutrients they could and recovering from their own near destruction. They didn’t like how low circumstances had made them sink, living in a manner uncomfortably close to the parasite they had been accused of.) had come as a complete surprise to the Symbiote.

Venom knew that Eddie suffered from depression, anxiety, and at times self-destructive tendencies, but to wake from stasis to find their host’s heart palpitating, lungs taking on water, limbs near unresponsive, brain activity slowing, and toxic mess occurring in the stomach was the shock of their life.

 

Their first thought was that Drake had somehow survived the rocket’s crash and that he and his men were torturing their host, because how else could all these traumas be happening all at once? Venom jumped into action, enveloping their host, preparing to bite the head off the first person they laid eyes on. However, in amassing their form around Eddie, it quickly became apparent that there was no one to fight. Eddie was in the ocean, and he was dying.

 

Venom could feel their host quickly slipping from consciousness. Systems within him were shutting down. There was no time to wonder at the circumstances surrounding their current surroundings. Venom had to act fast or Symbiote and host both would end up dead at the bottom of the bay.

 

The waters were choppy and Venom had a harder time than usual piloting Eddie’s muscles into the act of propelling them towards shore. Upon reaching land, Venom retracted from Eddie’s face, gathered as best they could the water that had aspirated into the lungs and forced it out from within. Same went for the toxic substances that were destroying the stomach, all forcefully purged from Eddie’s system in a violent deluge on the ground.

 

Venom could feel their host’s awareness kick during this unfortunate process. This was a good sign though, while the heart was still beating rather slowly and brain activity was murky, Venom was able to bring their core temperature back up and all for foreign substances and liquids had been expelled. Rather good work for having only come back to awareness within the last couple of minutes, Venom would like to think.

 

That didn’t stop the rush of panicked thoughts and words that came from Eddie from shaking Venom to the core. Eddie had thought they were dead? They are quick to reassure him that they are alive and that they had been asleep. Venom couldn’t help but slip a little dig at Eddie for the state of their host’s general health having made the process much slower.

 

They realize that this was the wrong thing to say as almost immediately Eddie is in a state of panic, expressing how he had thought that the Symbiote was dead and how he was sorry– _and God, please V, don’t leave me this time! Please! I can’t do it all again if this isn’t real!_

 

A sinking feeling permeated them to the core. Was Eddie like this now because of them? Had they hurt him somehow? While they had made casual threats to the safety of Eddie’s organs and wellbeing when the two had first met, Venom had understood such behavior (from Eddie’s own particular brand of sarcasm) to be friendly teasing.

 

Could it be that whatever had happened to Eddie that he would end up drowning in the bay– _limbs locking up, no air, only water, flooding his lungs, burning through his airways even as his body froze in the frigid depths, senses dulling down to dark unawareness_ –was their fault?

 

Dread consumed Venom. They hadn’t been able to help their host. They’d almost lost him. That, more than facing Riot again, more than dying again, more than anything, caused them fear.

 

They had to think logically now. That was what would save Eddie and help them unravel what had happened in the time they’d been asleep. The first thing they had to do was heal Eddie. To do so they would need food. The fat reserves within their host’s body had been woefully depleted in their absence. They would have to hunt if they didn’t want to risk damaging Eddie further.

 

Thankfully, even on a rainy night like this one, Venom found no shortage of prey to feast on.

 

It is precisely after they had just bitten the head off of one such delicacy that Eddie had chosen that moment to rouse briefly from his slumber, tucked away in the shelter of Venom’s bulk. Venom assumed that Eddie wouldn’t be too upset by his selection in prey (having swooped down on the man just as he had been brandishing a knife as at a passerby’s throat before dragging him kicking and screaming into a convenient ally) even so, they were quick to reassure and soothe their host back into sleep, lest he wake to find a cooling corpse clutched between their clawed hands and bits of gray matter stuffing their cheeks like a very lethal oversized squirrel.

 

More pressing was the concerning development occurring within their host. With the rush of nutrients from their current intake of protein and _delicious_ neurotransmitters, Venom is able to seek out and v the worst of the damage in Eddie’s body. However, the stress of the last hours has caused Eddie to develop a considerable fever. There is still trace amounts of seawater in his lungs and some of the pills that had populated the stomach had managed to dissolve into the bloodstream before Venom could flush them out.

 

Eddie’s body was a mess, albeit a slowly healing mess, thanks to Venom’s efforts. They just hoped Eddie’s mind would be just as receptive to healing. The persistent thought that somehow this was all Venom’s fault felt as bad as the burn of the explosion.

 

Venom couldn’t live without Eddie. Not just in a literal sense, but rather, Venom had never experienced the connection with a host that Eddie had with them. Without knowing it, Venom had gained everything they had ever wanted; a partner, someone that they could talk to and care for and who would care for them as well, someone who had their back. Someone who wanted them. If that was suddenly all ripped away because of Venom’s own neglect, what was the point of even going on?

 

They couldn’t afford to let these thoughts paralysis them. It was not too late, but only just. Eddie needed them now.

 

Venom searched Eddie’s memories to retrace their way back to their host’s new home. Along the way, their form broken up by the shadows and the torrential rainfall, they were able to get the jump on two more shady looking individuals (no one quite so morally offensive as the first snack, but what Eddie didn’t know could only help him heal). Getting into the apartment presented a new challenge. Everything about the new place was smaller, including the window. Venom gave the offending entrance a measured look before determining that they would not fit through, nor were they confident enough in their control of Eddie’s motor functions in his present state to try puppeteering their host along the slippery windowsill and into the space beyond.

 

Scaling down the side of the building (leaving a fair number of claw indents along the brickwork), Venom retreated beneath Eddie’s skin and performed their best impression of their host, albeit in such a way as to not draw attention. They didn’t like the idea of exposing Eddie to the elements again, given the fever chills that began to unconsciously beset their shared body, but it was necessary. Just one more hurt before both Symbiote and host could rest and recuperate.

 

After stumbling through the apartment buildings front entrance (Venom had only given the door’s locking mechanism a cursory glance before breaking in.) they made their unsteady way to Eddie’s home. The sluggishness of the response between Eddie’s synapse was real cause for concern, not to mention a major hindrance to their combined maneuverability. Before long though, Venom was able to locate the correct door by deciphering the jumble of memories Eddie had of this place. Venom noted with unease that these weren’t happy memories by any means.

 

Upon opening the door (this time locating Eddie’s key in his jeans pocket. They didn’t think their host would appreciate they busting the door down.) Venom’s gaze was immediately drawn to an illuminated object in the dark that was emitting an aggressive buzzing sound. Eddie’s phone.

 

The thought was there and gone in an instant. No time for distractions. Eddie’s fever was climbing higher, and while it seemed like the worst of the body’s distress had been mended by Venom’s quick intervention, their host was still in danger. Venom flowed through Eddie’s brain, looking for possible signs of damage or cell death that might account for the lethargic connections in the nervous system. What they found was both a relief and carried disconcerting implications: there was no damage to be found, but Venom could detect traces of the substance that had been in Eddie’s stomach. It had crossed over into their host’s bloodstream and thus the brain appeared trapped in a haze that Venom couldn’t quite make sense of. They would parse this further later.

 

Deciding that the best course was to move onward, addressing the remaining fluids in Eddie’s lungs seemed like the proper next step. Venom probed around their host’s airway drawing up any wayward moisture like a sponge before directing Eddie’s mouth to eject said fluids. After repeating this process for a time Venom discovered that Eddie’s lungs were irritated and producing fluid of their own. They noted with dismay that Eddie’s breathing seemed somewhat hindered as a result.

 

While they had their moments of painfulness, Venom could admit when they were in over their proverbial head. In this case, as badly as they wanted to be the one that could fix Eddie, healing all the damages (physical and emotional) that their absence had lead to, they just didn’t know enough about humans. They had only been in a few hosts before Eddie, and every one of them had been in poor or failing health to begin with.

 

To say that Venom was overwhelmed was a bit of an understatement.

 

Time to call for help.

 

They waste no time trying to maneuver Eddie’s body over to the still flashing phone, electing to shoot out a tendril and snag the angrily vibrating device.

 

Oh good, Anne is calling right now.

 

Venom used Eddie’s clumsy fingers to answer the call before lifting the phone to his ear.

 

_“Eddie, I swear to God! I have been trying to call you all day! You had better be dying because otherwise I’m going to kill you myse–“_

 

**Hello Anne.**

 

_“Oh my God…Venom? It that you?... Is Eddie there?”_

 

**Eddie is here, with us. But he is hurt and we need your help. Please come.**

 

**...And bring Dan too.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a medically savvy person. I did my best to pretend I knew what I was talking about. I apologize for any inaccuracies I have described.
> 
> So initially this was meant to be a one-shot, but here I am with another chapter and at least one more after this. I know I promised closure between Eddie and Venom, but the story decided it wanted to be longer. If all goes well, they'll have an actual conversation next chapter.
> 
> Thank you to everyone for your kind words and support!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Please read this before reading the chapter. I just wanted to take a serious moment and reach out to anyone reading this story and say that if you are feeling suicidal, depressed, anxious, or even just a little stressed out, there are people who can help you. 
> 
> If you are in immediate distress, please call 911 (or whatever your country's emergency number happens to be).
> 
> If you don't want/or feel that you should call 911 please consider calling National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255.
> 
> If you just need someone to talk to, there is a great texting service called Crisis Text Line. Just text HOME to 741741 and you will be assisted by a trained crisis counselor. I have personally used this service and can vouch for them.
> 
> Please be safe, and please know that no matter how hard things may seem, there is always someone who wants to help.
> 
> Now, on to that happy ending I promised you all.  
> -

The first thing he is aware of is how constricted his chest feels. Out of reflex he goes to draw more air into his lungs and comes up short with a gurgling wheeze. A cold sweat breaks out over his top lip and hairline as he feels panic seep into his skin.

 

 _Oh god._ He’s back in _the water_.

 

He’s trapped in the moments between living and dying, the water is closing over him, It’s in his lungs, but he can, frustratingly, get _just enough_ oxygen that his animal instincts fight for self-preservation.

 

He needs one or the other: to sink beneath the waves or to wash up on the shore. This sadistic purgatory scape, trapped in the moment of drowning was driving him crazy.

 

Suddenly he feels something wrap around him, restricting his movements and suspending his frantic thrashing. It isn’t constricting, like the pressure in his chest, but oddly calming, like being cocooned in a weighted blanket. His head feels dizzy from the thinness of the air; akin to the pinpricking sensation of a limb that was briefly deprived of blood flow.

 

Feeling the thickness in his throat, he makes no attempt to talk yet, instead sending a hopeful, _V?_ out into his consciousness.

 

An answering purr and **_Yes Eddie_** is his reward.

 

He feels lightheaded with the rush of relief and warmth that sweeps through his mind like a pleasant dream. Venom is alive.

 

**_We did not mean to cause you so much pain, Eddie. We regret having left you alone for so long._ **

 

He should be elated, and he was, the most solid foundation in his recent life had come back from the dead. But he couldn’t help that his happiness felt muted, like being trapped under an ice floe, unable to reach the surface. He shudders at that mental image.

 

**_Eddie?_ **

 

 _I’m alright, V. Just a little disoriented._ He hopes Venom will accept such a weak excuse without prying further. He doesn’t know if he can handle that right now. Between the low of his attempted suicide and the revelation of Venom’s survival, Eddie feels somehow both numb and like an exposed nerve ending, throbbing with dull pain but just raw enough that even Venom’s tiny inquiry of his name feels like a stab in the gut.

 

_Because of your selfishness, Venom almost died again._

 

The least he could do was be happy that the two of them, Symbiote and host, were once again reunited, but somehow the situation is only making him feel more morose.

 

Venom does not say anything in response but Eddie can feel their silence weighing down on him, the gravity of what is not said between them ready to press Eddie flat.

 

The oppressive tension is broken when the door slowly opens to allow Anne into, what Eddie now recognizes as, the guest room. He was in Anne’s apartment. _How?_

 

“You ok in here, Venom?”

 

**Yes.**

 

The form blanketing him spoke aloud this time. Eddie could feel that one syllable word reverberates around his body as a not unpleasant tingling sensation.

 

**_Our body Eddie….our Eddie…_ **

 

“Anne?” He tried to ask aloud but came up short when his voice could only whisper hoarsely.

 

“Eddie, you’re awake.” It comes out as a relieved statement, but Eddie, having known and lived with Anne for a significant portion of his adult life, can detect a guarded reservation to her demeanor.

 

“What ha—how did we get here? Why…?”

 

“Venom insisted that we either take care of you at your apartment or here. No hosp—“

 

**No hospitals!**

 

“Yes thank you”, she says wryly with one eyebrow raised in Eddie’s direction.

 

**We can fix Eddie better than any hospital. Just needed a little help. Humans are so needlessly complicated.**

 

“A _little_ help, huh? When you brought him here he was feverish, convulsing, and breathing like he could only intake oxygen through a straw. And your grand solution, which didn’t work, was to go eat a couple of vagrants out on the street. Also, lest we forget, he tried to kill himself!”

 

**We wouldn’t have allowed it!**

 

“Anne, please,” he has to stop and catch his breath for a few moments. Somehow this shouting match is cramping his airway like he’s running a marathon, and he’s barely said a word yet. “Don’t get mad at Venom. They had no part in my decision. I had no idea they were even alive.” He feels a sad trill echo across their link at this.

 

“Oh, I’m not mad at Venom. Because like or not, they did the best they could with the situation they found you in. And unlike you, Eddie Brock, they were able to suck it up and ask for help before things got out of hand. What the hell were you thinking?” At this, Anne’s voice cracks a little and she quickly flicks her hand beneath her eyes, not quite able to catch the quickly developing tears.

 

And, _oh god_ , if Eddie hadn’t felt like a complete scumbag before now he feels lower than dirt. Anne hardly ever cried, not because she was heartless, but because she was the composed one. She was the solid foundation in Eddie’s crazy life and he had always just taken that for granted. And now he had gone and done the one thing he had tried to prevent, dragging Anne into this whole fucked up downward spiral of his. “I swear I never meant to hurt you”, he croaks through a voice made thick with not just phlegm.

 

“Then what did you mean to do?” Her voice is steady now, anticipatory. Eddie can’t help but feel as though any answer he gives will be picked apart with no less skill than Anne would exact on any courtroom testimony.

 

“I just…I couldn’t do this anymore. I wanted out. I tried my best, proved to be a colossal screw-up, and decided that if this was what life was to be now, I didn’t want any part of it anymore. I should have died in the bay that night.” This last part he attempts to say nonchalantly but he can hear the emotion that the words squeeze out of him, traitorously. He longs for the numbness he felt before. Why is he getting all worked up over the prospect of his own death? He hadn’t before?

 

**Why do you wish you had died that night Eddie?**

 

Venom’s serpentine visage confronts him head-on. Eddie wishes their question had come off more accusing than the deep heartbreak he can feel emitting from them. This couldn’t get much worse.

 

“I thought you had died, V. I thought you had died saving me and, I thought maybe, if you hadn’t, you would still be alive, happy and with someone who can do better for you than me…”

 

They let out a keen reminiscent of a wounded animal before coiling their mass about Eddie’s body in a tight frantic jumble.

 

**No Eddie, we don’t want anyone else! Symbiosis! _We_ help each other! _We_ are Venom!**

 

“But you almost did die! And I can’t help but feel like if you had been with anyone else, maybe someone more competent, who isn’t such a loser, you wouldn’t have been put in a position where you had to sacrifice your life.” He can’t stop the angry indigent tears now. Why is he crying? He’s trying to explain his logic without coming across as a bigger nutcase than he already does. _This shit isn’t helping!_

 

**Didn’t die Eddie. We can be happy now.**

 

And god he wants to. He wants to _so bad_. But he feels like a line has been crossed and he’s past the point of no return. Venom is asking the impossible of him. He’s too far gone.

 

“So you were going to check out? Just like that? Eddie, I had no idea. Why didn’t you say anything?” Anne has her arms crossed over her chest, but Eddie can see that her hands clutching, white-knuckled, at the sleeves of the cardigan she has on, approximating a hug.

 

His stomach sinks. He did this to her and Venom, and even Dan based on the assortment of medical equipment strategically placed around the room. He hurt them; the one thing he had deluded himself into believing was that his death harm no one but himself. That his swift exit would be a benefit to everyone unfortunate enough to know him.

 

He just keeps screwing up worse and worse.

 

Venom must sense their host’s anguished feelings towards Anne as they take the initiative to loop out a thick tendril and drape it like an amorphous comforter over her shoulders, inadvertently drawing her closer. She makes a noise of surprise but accepts the embrace with a small “Thanks V” and a weak quirk of the lips.

 

“I guess I just felt like I was a waste of life. Like maybe, if Venom was gone, everyone else would be better off without me.” He can’t meet her eyes as he says all this. The shame he feels is eating him up, but now that he’s started to admit everything, he can’t stop. It’s the least Anne and Venom deserve for all the trouble he’s put them through.

 

“That’s so unfair, Eddie. You never even let us make a case for you, a case for your life, before you chose to end it. All you had to do was talk to me, or if you didn’t want to do that, you could have talked to Dan. Hell, if you didn’t want to talk to either of us, Dan could have found you professional help!”

 

“I didn’t want to burden you with my problems. I didn’t want to burden anyone with the fucked up shit in my head. I just wanted to quietly deal with all this without making a big deal out of it.”

 

“You don’t have to quietly deal with your pain. You are allowed to freak out, Eddie! If there is ever a time when it is socially acceptable to lose your shit, its when your feeling suicidal with grief over the loss of a loved one.” Her eyes are pained, searching his beseechingly, desperate for her words to get across.

 

He hates this. So much. He feels like it physically tolls him to continue.

 

“I…I’m not a charity case, Anne. You don’t want me in your life anymore. I respect that. You don’t have to pity me and bail me out every time I do something stupid now. I promise there will be no more ‘world in peril” situations anymore.” He tries for humor in that last line, but upon looking up he can see that Anne is frowning severely.

 

Well shit.  

 

“Eddie Brock.”

 

And now he knows he’s done it.

 

“Not once in the many years that I have known you, through our many ups and downs, even through our breakup, did I ever pity you or treat you like a charity case. You are the only one pitying yourself. You need to stop with this self-sacrificing bullshit and accept some help from your friends, because when you tried to deal with this by yourself, it literally almost killed you.”

 

Venom lets out a full-body shudder at this proclamation. Eddie noticed that they had gone silent, perhaps sensing that they were out of their depth with the gravity of the situation.

 

Eddie collects a small portion of Venoms gooey mass in his hands and kneads at it like a stress ball. Venom gives another shudder, but this time with a flood of contentment, as though Eddie’s nervous fidgeting is providing a deep-muscle massage. He really missed this.

 

He clears his throat of excess phlegm and coughs rather violently a few times trying to get back on track. The pain in his throat from continuous talking is becoming overwhelming.

 

Anne’s expression grows concerned as the symptoms of his illness act up.

 

“We don’t need to talk anymore right now, Eddie. You really need to rest.”

 

He tries to protest but can feel fatigue setting in.

 

“I’ll come back in a couple of hours with some soup for you, Eddie. And something a little hardier for you, Venom. Don’t think I forgot that you’re also technically recovering from your own near-death experience.”

 

Eddie hears a muffled, **Thank you Anne** , before he literally sinks into the inky darkness of Venom’s mass. There, cushioned in the protective body of his Symbiote, for the first time since he had woken up, he felt he could breathe a little easier.

 

* * *

 

 

When he next wakes up it is because he can feel Venom’s excitement permeating the fragile veil of his unconscious mind. Eddie muses on the fact that it is a sensation not unlike being drawn from sleep by something pleasant, like a cup of coffee or a steaming stack of pancakes.

 

Or, in this case, about a dozen whole trout on a bed of ice, presented in a rolling cooler courtesy of Dan.

 

 **Fish!** Venom hisses through salivating jaws.

 

“Glad you approve, buddy. Unfortunately, this was the best I could get from the market this late. There will be better, fresher stuff in the morning I’m sure.” Between Dan’s infectious cheer and Venom’s enthusiasm spilling over into his head, Eddie can’t help feeling a little giddy. Especially when Anne came in after Dan, bearing a bowl of soup and a large bottle of water. He hadn’t realized just how thirsty he was and felt he could easily drink the whole bottle in one go.

 

Perhaps sensing his intentions Anne tosses Eddie the bottle and Eddie has the cap off with a few frenetic seconds. He upends the bottle into his mouth and immediately chocks, spraying water down his front and coughing for air. The pain of his abused throat hadn’t apparent until he tried to gulp down the provided liquid.

 

Immediately Dan is at his side, rubbing his back and trying to speak to him. It takes a few seconds to register his words of “How is your chest? Are you able to breathe, Eddie?”

 

“I—yeah, I’m ok. Just went a little too quick there.”

 

“That’s understandable. This would be the first time you’ve directly had liquids in almost 72 hours. I should examine your throat before you move forward with the soup.”

 

“72 hours? I was out for three days?!”

 

Anne places the soup down on the nightstand next to his bed and makes her way to his other side. Eddie notes warily that there is a degree of casualness to her closeness. He’s unsure how he feels about all this.

 

“Yeah well, with the insistence that we not take you to the hospital,” and here she pointedly side-eyes Venom, who had reluctantly abandon the cooler of fish to enfold Eddie like a particularly frumpy winter coat, “we had to work with what Dan was able to sneak here on such short notice.”

 

Dan takes that as his cue to launch into a detailed description of the various twists and turns Eddie’s health had taken the last few days, including, but not limited to Eddie having a seizure shortly after Dan and Anne arriving to his apartment, Eddie’s fevered temperature skyrocketing to 104 at one point, how Dan had wanted to draw blood for Eddie in order to get a conclusive diagnosis on what he suspected to be bacterial pneumonia and how, in response, Venom had hated the needle with such vitriol that when it became apparent that Eddie would need an IV drip to stay hydrated, and to help with his clearly malnourished state, Dan had to improvise and deliver the necessary liquids, nutrients, and antibiotics to Eddie through Venom.

 

At this last point, Venom, (who had been ransacking the contents of the proffered cooler and snapping whole fish up to slide down their gullet like a demonic snake) made sure to interject with a grumble about how awful the antibiotics had tasted.

 

Eddie is reeling as he takes in all this news. He had basically been comatose for the last few days and all this time Anne, Dan, and Venom had been rushing around keeping him from alive.

 

“ _Oh_ god, guys. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you all had to put up with my stupid _shit_. I’m sorry I’m such a bad friend, or ex-friend or whatever. I’m sorry I’m a bad host, V.” He trails off unable to go on as his face sinks into the cradle of his open hands. The emotions pinching at the corner of his eyes threaten to fall.

 

“Eddie, you don’t have to apologize”, Dan comes closer and sits at his other side, not touching him, but Eddie gets the impression that this is out of respect for his personal space rather than aloofness.

 

Venom is back in Eddie’s lap. After a silent exchange between the two, Eddie resumes massaging the Symbiote between his fingers. Eddie can feel a vague impression of the pleasure Venom is receiving echoed back through their shared connection. It helps relax him down from the keyed-up stress of a moment ago.

 

Seeing that Eddie is in a minimally better state and not verging on a panic attack, Dan continues.

 

“You aren’t a bad friend for being in pain and seeking what you felt, at the time, was a logical solution to ending your pain. You don’t have to apologize for a decision made in a moment of extreme crisis. What matters now is that you are here now, among friends who are here to help you.”

 

“I…I’m sorry that I never said anything.”

 

“It’s ok, Eddie. As long as you can promise us that you’ll speak up if you ever feel like your in a bad place like that again, we can move forward. If you want to talk to us about whatever you’re struggling with, Anne and I will always be here to listen. If you don’t feel comfortable sharing with us, I can recommend some excellent colleagues in this field of expertise. If there is any way we can help you cope, please, don’t hesitate to ask.”

 

Eddie is actively suppressing tears at this point. This is too _goddamned_ much.

 

“Can…can I just get a moment?”

 

Between his illness and the _stupid tears_ running down his face and the suffocating emotions fucking with his head, Eddie feels like he’s about to shake apart.

 

“Of course, Eddie, whatever you need”, Anne says, sliding her arm across his shoulders, offering him gentle a, but no less meaningful, half hug.

 

It feels so nice, just letting Anne hold him like that.

 

**Hug, Eddie?**

 

Figures Venom would latch onto that particular thought.

 

“Yeah,” his voice cracks but at this point he is a long way from caring. “Yeah, V, that sounds nice. Can…?” This last part is directed at Dan and Anne.

 

They catch his meaning and nod through their own slightly watery smiles, sandwiching Eddie up in an all-encompassing embrace.

 

Caught up in the moment, Venom takes this as an invitation to envelop their host whole, reverting Eddie to their eight-foot tall, significantly bulkier form.

 

There is a moment of alarm that passes between the two other humans in the room before an immense pair of monstrous, gleaming black arms carefully, but affectionately grasp them into a full-bodied hug. It was a little awkward, but once everyone accepted that this was their life now (getting nuzzled by the unholy combination of their friend and the apex predator alien life form that lived under said friend’s skin) it was an altogether heartening experience.

 

Eddie had no doubt that the depressive state that had plagued him just minutes before was still lurking at the corners of his mind; just waiting for a quiet moment to rear its ugly head and reassert the torment and self-doubt that had been building for years and had come to a horrific crescendo in the last couple days.

 

A part of him would always still be out there in the water, just waiting to remind him of the sensation of drowning. In the dark, alone.

 

 _But now_ , a small voice of optimism offered, _we don’t have to be alone._

 

**_We will help you float._ **

 

* * *

 

 

Eddie hadn’t considered that Venom had meant that reassurance about helping him float _literally_. But here they are, in the ocean, albeit months later, _but still_ , out in the water.

 

Eddie can’t help the creeping anxiety that keeps redirecting his gaze at the serenely lapping water carrying him adrift. Venom partially covers him, imitating the fit and form of a wetsuit, just in case inquisitive eyes spy them.

 

Eddie is doing his best to relax his tense muscles and allow his body to bob aimlessly with the rippling current. This far out from the shore, they don’t have to worry about been capsized under errant waves. They take extra precautions to ensure that Eddie’s head is positioned safely, yet comfortably out of the reach the water. No risk of drowning. Venom won’t let him sink.

 

And yet Eddie can’t stop his thoughts from spiraling into an anxious mess at the realization that he is _here_ , back out in the place he almost died _twice_ , once in the unavoidable panic of the rocket crash and the other very nearly by his own hands…

 

**_Relax Eddie. We have you._ **

_I don’t doubt that love, it’s just a little hard to shut off the panic switch in my brain. It has a habit of turning on all on its own._

**_We know, it is most annoying._ **

 

A bubble of amusement passes between the two of them before Eddie’s thoughts turn once again to the sea surrounding him.

 

**_Ok Eddie? We can go back to shore if you would like. Anne and Dan would not mind us early for dinner._ **

 

_No, it’s fine. It’s not even all that late yet. We can go longer._

 

Though they are trying to be subtle, Eddie can feel Venom peek around his mind, determining with certainty that Eddie is in fact ‘fine’ and not just saying so to keep up a pretense. This only annoys Eddie for a split second. He gets it though, he had been putting on a façade of ‘fine’ for so long that it only made sense that Venom would not entirely trust what had become a reflexive answer to anyone who asked how he was handling things. Even with his newfound determination to open up and be honest about his mental health issues, he fell back on evasive answers by habit enough that Venom, out of frustration, often just blurted out what their host was _really_ feeling.

 

Can’t hide things from someone who shares your brain.

 

Venom senses this downward turn in Eddie’s mood. They shift nervously over and under his skin. He decides to relieve their very obvious distress before they somehow give him an aneurysm.

 

_I’m fine, really love. It’s just going to take a while to fix me._

**_We don’t wish to fix you, Eddie. You are not broken. We want to help you with your pain. Your burden._ **

 

He huffs a little in frustration. He hadn’t meant to set off this circular argument again, but now he can’t help stepping in.

 

 _I just can’t help but think about how you might be better off without me, V. I_ — _I’m holding you back. You could have a host that isn’t crippled with various neuroses. One whose brain works like it should. I’m just telling you this now…you don’t have to waste your life on me. I understand._

****

**_NO!_ **

 

Eddie physically flinches at the volume of Venom’s roar in his head. Sensing this, Venom works to sooth the ringing ache their objection produced before trying again, more sedately this time.

 

**_Eddie…we…I am nothing without you._ **

 

The rare singular pronoun catches his attention. The ocean dissolves away as Eddie devotes his full attention to the Symbiote’s words.

 

**_I don’t want to go back to the existence I had before we…I met you. There is no Venom without Eddie. Please, don’t make us return to that existence._ **

Eddie can feel a note knot of emotion tightening in his chest.

 

_I’ll try, love. I swear I’ll try. I don’t know if I can do it for me, but I will try for us._

 

A trill of happiness blooms through his senses. As the sun sets and what few stars the San Francisco night sky will afford them (through the gratuitous light pollution) dot the atmosphere, Eddie allows Venom to embrace him fully.

 

They are one now, drifting peacefully on the surf. In their shared mind, one thought flows tranquilly through them.

 

**_We are home._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Please read the Notes at the top of the chapter***
> 
> Well, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone!
> 
> I tried my best to get this chapter done and this fic concluded before Christmas, 'cause I figured, if anyone else out there is like me, they'd rather be reading fanfics on their phones than awkwardly socializing with 'difficult' family members around this time of year. Sorry if that means there are some glaringly obvious mistakes in grammar that I missed. Sometimes my brain just shorts out about 2,000 words in, and Grammarly only catches so much.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read this story. The first chapter of this fic was the first time in nearly 6 year I had written a fanfic, so I was very nervous about how it all would go. 
> 
> Please, feel free to offer any constructive criticism you may have! Or, if your feeling generous, send me a comment and let me know how you liked the story. I read and appreciate every comment, even if I haven't been in the habit of replying to them.


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